The White Lie
by Spooky tree
Summary: There are some who are just lucky. But as the night seems to consume her small form, the girl begins to wonder is she really lucky?


**Hello everyone, Im a big fan of the slender man game no matter how many times I play it, I still jump every time the music begins, and I can see good ol' slendie off in the distance. This story is a bit short, but I do hope it accomplishes, if but only a small degree, to creep you lovely readers out. The girl In my story, I suppose, is one of the many hapless few that are in the wrong place at the wrong time read on to find out weather there is a happy ending in store for her or perhaps not.**

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**"The White Lie"**

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Out of sight, out of mind, she chanted to herself. Her lungs ached as she took a deep breath, filling them to capacity with the thick humid night air. Her eyes flitted around every empty corner, hoping that no one had seen what she had done.

It was wrong, it was evil she knew. her throat stung as she tried to pacify the tears that threatened to fall when her eyes fell on the body that she dragged away clumsily from the wreckage of her car. She had to be quick; no doubt someone from one of the nearby houses had seen the gruesome act. How she swerved sharply to the side when a large dark mass appeared in front of her small humble car. How could she have known, that instead of a deer as she initially thought (deer populated the sleepy neighborhood, so it was virtually common place to see a deer corpse on the ground once in a while.) she had actually in fact hit a person, a man. At least she though it was a man. She was too stricken with horror when she saw that his head was swallowed up by a pile of sharp jumbled metal.

She swallowed back the sour bile that erupted from her throat. She coughed and looked away, the smell of beer wafted through her nose. She remembered the beers she had only hours before, she didn't want to be rude. It was a barbeque, and everyone looked at her hopefully as one of her friends had handed her the cold frosty drink.

But in the eyes of the police, they would throw her away in jail like a dirty piece paper. Where she would be forgotten, her dreams of traveling to Paris, tasting the high life of collage would slip through her fingers if anyone found out. If anyone found the corpse that threatened to stain her life, she wasn't going to let it happen. The car itself was easy; she would simply tell them that someone had hit her instead of the other way around. There was a large dent on the right side of the car so it could be feasible. That and the frantic state that she was in the dark little lie could work.

They would think of her as nothing more than a prime and proper wide eyed little girl who was more than likely frightened of what her parents would think of the state of the car. She inspected the car making sure that blood didn't linger behind. And for good measure she cleaned the front as thoroughly as possible, using two plastic bags as makeshift gloves after dumping out the leftovers from the barbeque. She then very carefully picked the limp body out of the wreckage and was now carrying it away from prying eyes her body felt cold and numb and she shivered every time the unfortunate's dark close would snag itself on a large root. She thought she heard bones cracking every time she yanked an arm or a leg free.

Her black flip-flops sloshed across the moist grass as she neared her destination. The sanctity of the river beckoned to her sweetly, as she looked into its violent dark depths. She looked up into the cloudy purple night sky. Giving silent thanks for the rain that her small town received the last couple of days, it was enough to bring life into the river near the large elementary school, its waters churned and licked against the rock hungrily as she pushed the black clad body in it. She was in a trance as she watched in a mixture of both excitement and a horror as the slender body was batted around the current, and disappeared into the distance.

Everything was silent; the girl looked on into the empty void that carried away the corpse. her legs trembled as she felt a sickly warmth rise up her cold body like mercury from a thermometer. She pulled her long brown hair away from her face as she threw up. Her shoulder hunched forward as she emptied the remaining contents of her stomach into the river, she smoothed a trembling hand across her hot mouth as she weakly made her way to the large school.

It was the school she and her friends had attended as children, and if memory served her, there would be a security guard watching from his small office post with his legs propped up on his old desk as he watched old black and white movies. (Or at least that's what the old security guard before would do)

Her pace quickened as hope filled her heart when she neared the small shack like office. She stretched her lips in the shy smile that everyone thought was adorable and pecked inside. She reasoned with herself when she saw it was empty, that the guard was either in the restroom or making his hourly rounds. She decided to wait when she noticed a small fridge. Ah the joys of technology she thought, as she took out an untouched water bottle and drank it greedily.

She turned up the radio and perched herself atop the desk, her legs dangling to the lyrics. The song smoothed over her and calmed her, that is until the man's smooth voice sang "Easy like Sunday morning." she couldn't help but chuckle despite herself.

"If only you knew compadre." She said as she smoothed her white laced sundress. Relived that there was no stains on it, she continued smoothing it down admiring the lace stopping abruptly when she felt a sharp pain on the right side of her leg. Furrowing her brow, she lifted up her dress slightly and noticed she had a scratch which she figured was caused by the wreck, but as she inspected it closer, she noticed something odd. The scratch was in an x shape it popped up against her white skin like a pink wrinkle she smoothed a finger around the aching skin that encompassed the x shaped scratch in a circle.

Her heart dipped slightly no matter how many times she told herself that the scratch was due to the wreck she couldn't shake the niggling feeling that it was something more than that, something that she did not want to find out.

No sooner did those thoughts cross her mind the music from the radio suddenly erupted in static. Startled, the girl picked the radio up and began banging lightly on it to get back in working order. Her banging frenetic when she thought the static was getting louder. She looked around, the darkness of the school grounds, and felt as if she was now eons and eons away from civilization. No one, but her and the radio that hissed even louder by the minute in almost an accusing manner,

"Stop it!" the girl heard her shrill voice erupt over the static as she shook the small contraption furiously "Shut up!" she yelled "shut up!" She raised it above her head determined to destroy the radio and the eerie static that pulsated loudly and then quietly as if it had a life of its own. Just as soon as the thought crossed her mind, the static stopped and the girl could have sworn she heard a slight voice. It was soft and mellow, her brows furrowing, the girl pressed her ear closer to the speaker and listened the man's voice who continued repeating something over and over.

"Im coming closer, Im coming closer, Im coming closer,"

The girl's heart began to beat faster, she licked her lips nervously and prayed to God that this was only the beginning of another of those odd oldies songs that her mother loved to listen to. The voice stopped the radio was silent the only thing the girl could hear was her heart pounding in her ears and the raged breath that escaped her dry parched mouth.

"I can SEE YOU!" the girl squealed dropping the radio. It broke into a million of pieces that scattered around as the girl scurried out the office door the keys jingling loosely in her cold sweaty hand. The world felt empty, as the girl ran straight to the entrance of the school. The darkness whirled around her, her eyes shifted frantically when she thought she saw a dark shadow stalking her watching her following close behind like a gnarled shadow.

The shadow loomed closer, as her shaking hand unlocked the double doors and pushed them open with a desperate cry. The door closed with a loud click that echoed through the hollow school hallway.

"Hello?" she called out. She paused to see if she got any response from the guard. Using the door for support she rose weakly, and called out again.

"Hello, please help me. Someone hit my car." she began running towards the class when she heard a loud bang. "He drove away, I think he was drunk." She slowed down and began limping, just to make it more believable as she turned the knob to the first class room on the left and entered.

She peered around, using the moonlight as her only means of light. From the jumble of tacked up construction paper on the walls and the sinks full of clean paint brushes this must have been the art room. It hadn't changed at all she smiled as she felt a pang of nostalgia as she neared one of thick tempera painted pictures. Her favorite one was one that had a plane painted on yellow construction paper, a penciled drawn arrow with the name Rosemary written across it pointed to the smiling stick figure pilot.

Something she would have drawn as a kid, the girl smiled as she ran her hands across the pea green counter, as she slowly walked to the black construction paper that was tacked up alone, on a chalk board. That sad, the picture all alone, the girl thought frowning as she cocked her head and inspected the painting with name Sullivan scribbled in white map colors. What the girl saw made her blood turn cold, the drawing had what looked like a little girl with yellow crayoned cork screw curls and a pink triangle dress. The little girl was next to a man, a man so tall that his head reached top of the paper. His long arm stretched out and held the little girls hand, and the scribbled sun on the upper right side of the paper was frowning.

The picture was entitled: "sis and him" the girl felt dizzy, and turned away it must have been because of the colors she thought as she rubbed her eyes. It wouldn't do any good to linger here; she had to find the guard.

She gave the picture a sideways glance as she turned to leave.

"Wait a minute; didn't I leave the door opened?" The girl spoke aloud as she tried to pry it open. She gave up after the third attempt. Frustrated, she banged her head on the glass of the door, and wrung her hands that ached from the pulling so hard.

"Now what'll you do to get out of this one old girl? Come on you can get out of this; you weren't elected the class valedictorian for nothing. They have to have something pointy around her so I get the door unlocked."

The girl scoured the class room only finding a box of child safe scissors which she figured wouldn't be of any use. Frustrated she threw the pair she had in her hand angrily away, she heard it clattered and slide around the wooden floor as she decided the best bet was to look into the teacher's desk. She glanced out the window and felt uneasiness as she noticed the night sky turning a soft light blue. Morning was approaching; she was running out of time.

It never occurred to the girl that the time she spent in the small wooden class would be her final moments of freedom. Freedom from the creature that now observed her, as a cat would a canary in its golden cage with an almost animalistic wonton hunger as it waited in darkest corners of the room, waiting for her moment of vulnerability to bloom forth and entice the creature like nectar from a flower.

The girl breathed out a smile when she saw a light fluttering around the hallway. And she knew that it was the guard, her way from the room that now filled her with unease. Even though the sun was slowly beginning to filter through the windows, the girl felt an odd darkness beginning to envelope her. She swung around quickly and tripped on the pair of scissors on the floor. She cried out as she felt a sharp pain run through her thigh as she landed.

She swallowed hard, and her stomach lurched when she saw the seemingly harmless scissors protruding from her soft white flesh. Bright red blood began bubbling and trickling down her leg as she limped weakly to the door and began banging it hard to get the elderly guard's attention.

But to no avail the guard continued on unaware of the poor child as she rapped against her glass door, desperately trying to get his attention. It was as if she where now a ghost, trapped into a dimension that was alien and foreign to him. The guard didn't even notice as a large dark tentacle grabbed the girl around the neck and slammed her against the glass door.

The girl cried out in pain as she felt the thing rip the scissors from her thigh. Tears trickled down and her vision blurred, but she was still able to see what held her prisoner, and it made her body tremble with fear as she began to cry and shake her head helplessly from side to side when she noticed the black and white suit that clung wet to the slender creatures form. The thing had no face her mouth quivered as it drew closer to her. Whatever this thing was, it regarded her almost curiously. It tilted its hairless head from side to side as a long bony gloved finger slid and trace circles around her gasping mouth.

She stiffened when she felt cold scaly skin on her thigh. It trailed higher and higher making the girl blush at how intimately close it was as it paused and lingered at the juncture of her thighs. She stared deeply in to the endless white face of the entity. She let out a pained groan that soon turned in to a cry of despair as the thing with its slick tentacle drew a ghastly smile on its face with the blood from her thigh.

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Misses Morgan the art teacher ran a long withered hand through her stiff hair-sprayed blonde hair that sat atop her head like spun cotton candy. She yawned widely, and took another sip of tea from her favorite cow shaped coffee mug as she rummaged through her large hobo bag for her class room keys. She smiled as she heard the sound of tiny feet shuffling behind her, her first period class. As the small children waited as kindly old teacher unlocked and began opening the door, Misses Morgan stopped and gasped as she looked around her classroom.

Red, red was everywhere. On the walls on the floors it dominated the class in its garish presence. She sighed and wondered who the hell the where little delinquents who snuck in and splattered wet tempera paint all willy-nilly around her class room, and why didn't Patrick the guard catch this.

"The old lazy bastard." She breathed as she quickly called a student teacher from the office to take the children (who were now whispering excitingly amongst themselves) for an early recess. She walked in and lightly cleaned some of the counters with a wet rag. The white cloth was smeared heavily with red, Misses Morgan's brow furrowed as she reached down and ran a finger through the thick substance and watched it run down her index finger red and thick.

Just like blood.


End file.
